Well, it's been while since I've written anything (of value), so obviously swamped with life and work. But when does work become your life? What is your life as you define it?

Is life a set of disappointments? Is it all our childhood dreams being crushed? We are still kids after all, growing into years of disappointment and bitterness. Is to be an adult the hollow husk of the inner (sometimes former) child we were? Is the shell of bitterness the adult we're suppose to become? Are we to fill our hollow selves with our secrets and alcohol? Am I going to be like my mother and look for old friends in the obits?

I know it's been awhile since I've written anything on this blog, or at all. It's mainly because of the changes in my life in the last few months like getting fired from my job, getting girlfriend in the last weeks of the job, losing the girlfriend, gaining a friend, getting back into college (University of Phoenix).

11/17- Quickie Update

August- had job, lost job. Gained girlfriend, relationship got deep too quickly.

Sept-

Oct-got dumped; became single (there is a story there but later)

Nov- Turkey Day. Aww, good ol' turkey day. How was your's? Probably, fan-freakin-tastic. My was, well, family filled long weekend.
  

If only art and science combine their energies.

After some thinking I finally figured out what i was feeling change inside me since my dancing days: confidence. That is what I gained since my days of dancing. It was what i was feeling, the change i felt undertaken within my soul, my gut.
I've been feeling overlyconfident as of late and that's not me.

I want the old me back, cause this new guy doesn't think much.

There's more. Oh, there is much more to come just allow me to sort and write this down.

Oh, yea. Lil bro is out of jail, has been for two months, and about to become a daddy.
-Later-

Concerning the new look I'm reformatting to a more raw content. Meaning that the stuff I've been holding back will be splattered across this blog in the senseless manner in which I've acquired it.

I'm rawer. More passionate. More evil. Much more me.

The stories are piling up some it'll be some time before I can get them to you all but I will deliver.

Oh, before I go here's some good news: a federal judge heard my lil bro's case and threw it out, he's coming home next week (hopefully). And I may not go back to college.

Dear readers, I thank you all for following me through my awarding-winning three-year odyssey. It was the longest and most extensive soul-searching I have ever embarked on but now that I have found answers, some I wanted and some I did not, my journey into myself is slowing down. Therefore, time has come for me to decide whether to reformat the blog and focus less on me and more on you. I am good at giving straightforward advice. I like meeting new people. I also want to know what makes you tick. What I am asking is your problems, your personality, to get to know you. I'll be focusing more on relationships and you.

If you want anonymity, then leave nothing but an URL or email address to reach you or come back here and read. I am only want to help you.




  

 Do I seem whoreish to you? Do I have a "For sale" sign on my forehead?! What the HELL is making me man-candy to the gay and bi-curious set?!

 People, I have another fantastical story to tell of my days on the streets. So it begins, I and two other ambassadors were working the NACo -the National Counties Convention here in New Gotham. The convention is a collection of council members from all or most of the counties from all across America coming together to discuss governmental stuff and stuff. The day starting off just as you would expect -dull, mind-numbing, boring meet-and-greet of political bigwigs (or so they think) of local counties from all over the country approximately 3500 people are expected to be here until Tuesday.

A sleepless Friday night does not help me perform my job to the best of my acting abilities so I stick to the shadows as allowable and lean against the convention center building for support. Finally, my lunch half-hour comes around and I'm headed to one of my many "chill" spots dispersed around the city for a little R&R. But like most simple pleasures in my life it is denied by the curiosity of a councilman wanting to get a taste of the local flavor. Did he mean me by that comment? I agree to show the gentleman around town on MY lunch break! We walk and talk about town, I point out the hot spots, the core activities that are happening about this sleepy city on a Saturday afternoon. We discuss the city, his job, the government, I asked what could my city government could do to improve it's lackluster downtown. I tell him about my current attempt to write a competency bill which states that if the President or any member of be thought incompetent they would fired by a majority vote on their competency. At some point in the engrossing conservation he told me was from San Francisco; San Francisco is a county I (seeming like a child) ask of him. Apparently, it is a city-county and the only one in all of Cali -fascinating. Then he asks me about our gay population. Well, you're in a city that use to be the capital of the Confederacy and you're in the South most our gay populace is DL , deep DL if not moved to ATL or D.C. or NYC. It seem strange he would ask that considering where he is at the moment. I don't mean to stereotype my city but hell, every stereotype has or had a seed of truth. I get angry looks for seeming gay, weird, and complicated; why am I here? Anyway, we travel up to the university twice circling to find a place to eat something deep fired (that's what he meant). He tells me he is up without his family, he finds they slow him down when he wants to get a "taste of the local flavor".

 After being called to return to my post by the interim supervisor for the day, we returned to the convention center and there he gave me his number and told me to call him, he wanted to take me out to dinner. Was this an innocent invite to dinner by rich man here in an unfamiliar locale, wanting companionship or was it an invite for a "date"? I may be power hungry but not to the extreme of selling my body to a political figure! Therefore, I ask of you all should I take the man up on his offer. Ladies, what would you all do in this situation?    

Saw an old classmate today she is pregnant and married. Yes, married at 21. This like hearing of so many other acts of procreation I reacted to with shock and even denial. I hadn't asked myself why I was so shocked and denying this news of pregnancies and kids until today. Why have I reacted with such shock it is nearly dismay, awe, and disbelief is because I am being hit with news of responsibility, benchmarks of adulthood. I can and have held multiple responsibilities at once with little problem at most, no, it's just that I had planned on living my life to the fullest in my twenties (this apart of the old plan I had for myself that got horridly mangled and destroyed by the unexpected curveballs in my life). Now I am trying to ride my life to it's most shameful drunken unabashed perk -as according to my new plan- but all the news of babies and marriage hold a mirror to me. Then I am forced to ask, "Am I being childish at the wrong time?"

For years, I have been the straight-A kissup until high school when the curveballs started to hit then after high school pummel me, forgiving. I have been the pillar and glue for anyone else when will I have another chance to immerse myself once self-denied debauchery and recklessness? When will I have another chance to makeup for all those years of studying and taking care of my mother (she was highly emotionally unstable in my youth as compare to now) and playing peacemaker to a family that still thinks my introvertness is an act! Will I ever reclaim those bygone years? On the other hand, must I dawn my responsibilities one final time, for all time 'til death? Must I put my long sadden inner-child out of his misery? Need I make up for years long gone?

I do feel rather silly and awkward as this man-child.

Allow me to talk about me for a minute here. Thursday morning, it was a little cool and of little comfort for which humidity is to blame. That morning getting on the city bus my mother gestured for me to step onto the bus and look inward supposedly for someone I would know (mother has a habit of pointing out people I don't know, don't remember, or don't care about for my past, her past or our shared past). Today on the bus she pointed out my predecessor: my biological father.

Oh, great. Was she expecting a Jerry Springer/Maury moment? I looked at him then proceeded to the back of the bus where I's and Ms. Johnson talked 'bout this new civil rights movement goin' on. But I doubled back into the seat across from his while mother sat in front of him. They were talking the whole ride into Downtown.

What could I say to the man, I felt nothing but an inkling of respect for him since my mom told me that he said he'd rather stay completely away instead of being in and out of my life knowing he didn't have the resources to help me in anyway. I respect people that know their limits instead of exceeding them to damaging dangerous levels. Besides I was never one to seek out father figures, if anything, I outright rejected wannabe-daddies. It has always been mother (first in command), I (second in command), my lil brother (third in command) and baby sis (private spoiled brat). I was and AM the pillar and glue of this highly dysfunctional family, who needs a father figure or a father? I am the most independent soul most people have ever met and now that I have evolved from boy to man, is a father (figure) important or necessary? Or wanted?

After we got off the bus he talked to me about "could me call me?" Sure, why not? Then I went to work. The end.

Hello followers I, GS, Lord Snob, am sorry for not visiting you all. I've been busy with work and loan apps and thinking of ways to break into the car that belongs to a man who had a heart attack. What? My stuff is in the trunk and the old geezer has forgotten everything before the heart attack including my stuff so now I must get them back at any cost. Talk to him? Nah, I'm not socially graceful in this sort of situation i.e. demanding to get my stuff back from a person whom which others sympathize.

 Oh, I'll be getting my dreadlocks this coming Saturday. I'm in what is supposedly known as the ugly period, and so far, it's true. My hair is everywhere. This Virginia summer does not make the situation better by any means. The muggy, barely tolerable humidity is climbing to it's apex in August. Wipe down -with a cold towel. I have been getting helpful tips for my transformation from a fellow dread head, a lovely thick dread head whom is twice my age (40 something), age aint nothing but a number.

 Anyway, she has invited me to go with her to an YTB meeting. Yes, the same YTB from those commercials on at five in the morning. Yes, I'm going. No, not for the reason you're thinking. Tsk, tsk. 

Before I go, I want to share with you all a piece of my latest writing, which currently still in development. I need honest constructive feedback. Ok? Thank you. Without further ado:

Welcome to Little Gotham

By B. T. Thomas

 

Welcome to RiverCity, Virginia, also know as -among the crowd in the know- Little NYC. Little Gotham.

This summer was wrong. I’m not speaking strictly of the heat, which is worth a mention, no. There were many things wrong this summer. I wouldn’t know until later how really wrong this summer and city could be. It started with a summer job a had gotten because of my earlier fame (that’s a story for another time). During the day I’m suppose to protect this sleepy city -my love- with only my stainless steel pocketknife and company supplied radio. I am one of a handful, and the youngest, of City Observers (that’s official title –nice, huh?) that walk the city taking note of potholes, damaged or blown out lights, stuff that’s wrong with the city, blah, blah, blah. As you can tell, the excitement is too much for me so in these moments I clam down and use my idled brain to find other uses for my pocketknife.

 

What is7 inches long, silver, with a 3-inch blade? My beautiful new pocketknife! Why do I have a knife? For protection, silly. Therefore, I can brutally wound any attacker, robbers in particular. There have been strings of robberies lately all across town including the parts I work. My job is me walking about the business section and other parts of the city. In my territory, a diner was robbed weeks ago on my watch while I was a few streets away. While homicide has dropped significantly, robbery is quickly becoming the rising star crime in the city. Moreover, I and the other ambassadors are vigilate and aware and prepared. How am I to protect my wonderfully city with a 3 inch blade? Surely, the more I carry the knife the more my latent homicidal tendency has crept to the surface. The more feel like a vigilante prowling my city for criminals in the act. How would I react? Who knows? Here in this city, my knife and I are of few true heroes still left in this forgotten city in the muggy south. Here where homicide was once our claim to fame, where the True Blue are dripped in crimson red for a little extra green, where politicians are neighbors that will not let you borrow a cup of sugar without signing a binding contact negating them of liability for hyperness and/or lack of flavor. This is New Gotham or Lil’ Gotham to some.

 

Where once homicide was the crime-de-jour now there is larceny to take its place. Take today there was a robbery at this popular diner in my territory.    

 

>for later>>I was famous once, only locally. My 15 minutes came from my last job, well, while on the job. I was walking, talking, dancing billboard for a tax service. The day I gained my fame was the day I wished never came. This particular day was cold